Captured
by Gecko is a Squid
Summary: When seven of our favorite Shadowhunters and Downworlders are captured, people will have questions. But what if it's their captors? What are their motives? Why are they tied to chairs? Why's it so dark? Rated T for future language/violence.
1. Mistakes in the Darkness

Hiya guys! Gecko here, with my first MI fanfic! It's not my first _ever _fanfic, though, so don't be worried. It's not filled with Mary-Sues and horrible spelling. Anyways, I've noticed that a lot of the humor type fics here are lower in quality than, say, adventure or romance. No offense, humor-fic writers! I'm trying to up the standard, with this, a somewhat humorous fic. Don't worry, it gets funnier around the third chapter. Oh, and I'm trying to go for atleast 1000 words per chapter, so I'm sorry if it's a bit lower in quality than you'd like. I do have some standards for myself! But still, enjoy! Enough with my nattering!

* * *

It was very dark.

Very, _very_ dark.

Very, _very, VERY dark._

You wouldn't be able to see your hand in front of your face, let alone the seven unconscious victims that were tied to chairs.

Wait, did I say victims? I meant, totally awesomely-wintacular people that oozed awesomeness… And just happened to be tied to chairs in pitch darkness.

Of course, darkness doesn't mean _silence, _necessarily. In fact, there was an argument going on in a room near by, that could distinctly heard through a set of speakers that, even if you _could_ see, you still wouldn't find.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GAVE THEM THE WRONG DOSES?" yelled a distinctly female, and angry voice.

"Uh, I gave them the wrong doses?" said the other person, almost female, and sounding slightly scared.

"I THINK WE GOT THAT. BUT WHY?"

"It was only a mistake…"

"Really? You made a MISTAKE? How on earth did you make a _MISTAKE?_"

"Well, they weren't quite labeled, and I couldn't find the instructions…"

"It was obvious, you know. Clary's was in the orange tube, Jace's was in the gold-ish one, Isabelle's was in the black tube, Simon's looked like it was mixed with blood, Alec's was blue, Maia's was the only plain one, and really, Magnus's had GLITTER! How could you mess THAT one up?"

"… I thought it was Simon's. Don't vampires sparkle?"

It sounded like there was some serious head-desking going on in the other room. Or maybe somebody's head was being hit repeatedly with a large, hard covered copy of _City of Ashes_?

"THESE. ARE. NOT. TWILIGHT. VAMPIRES. SIMON. DOES. NOT. SPARKLE."

"please stop hitting me"

"DO. VAMPIRES. SPARKLE?"

"not any of the good ones…"

"WHATDIDYOUSAY?"

"ONLY THE AWESOME ONES?"

"Perfect. Now go get the cat. He got away again."

"I'm allergic to cats."

"Do I care?"

"No, master."

It seemed like the arguing had awoken the victims. Wait, not victims. Either way, amid the sounds of an angry cat and a lot of clattering, somebody was moving. The somebody, in fact, knocked over his chair when he tried to stand up.

"Very graceful, aren't you, bloodsucker?" remarked Jace Wayland/Morgenstern/Lightwood/Herondale/Whatever he is today as Simon Lewis scrambled on the floor. Of course, Jace couldn't see him. It was too dark. Even with his vampire-enhanced sight, Simon could hardly see anything.

"Shut up," Simon mumbled, trying to get back to the chair upright again. Of course, he failed.

"What, can't take a little criticism now you're vampire-perfect?"

"No, I'm just lying on a cold floor in a lightless room. I'm in a perfect mood,"

"Shut _up, _guys," snapped Isabelle from a separate part of the room. "We're in a dark room, with no weapons and no way out. Do you expect _anyone_ to be in a good mood?" Nobody said much after that. Maybe they were listening to (and laughing at) the angry sounds of a cat and some poor idiot stuck catching the cat. But generally, it was pretty quiet.

"OW! THE STUPID CAT BIT ME!" yelled (or screamed?) one of the people in the other room. The one that liked sparkly vampires, to be exact.

"It wouldn't bite you if it was in the cage," replied the other person nonchalantly, who, in fact, _didn't_ like sparkly vampires.

"It's not _my_ fault he escaped!"

"You were the one that didn't lock the cage."

"… I hate you."

"Now get the cat."

"I'm allergic to cats."

"Get. The. Cat." There must have been something in the way that the person (she?) said it, but the angry-cat sounds resumed almost immediately. Jace laughed.

"What's so funny?" Clary asked, a little groggily. "Where are we?"

"Alone, in the dark. Any moment now somebody will randomly burst in with balloons and cake. Surprise, you just ruined the party," Jace drawled, clearly bored.

"Who else is here?" Clary replied, not reacting to Jace's sarcasm.

"Jace, Isabelle, me, and… Some other people," Simon said, still from the floor. The sounds of the angry cat in the other room had died down, only to be replaced by the sniffling of somebody that seemed to be suffering from some horrible cat scratches. Other than that, it was quiet. And boring. Very, very boring.

"So," Simon said, breaking the near silence.

"So," Clary 'replied'.

"So what?" asked a slightly drunk sounding Maia. Her words were a little slurred, but she sounded tired.

"Maia?"

"Simon?"

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Well, I _hate_to interrupt this lovely conversation, but there is the tiny issue of being tied to chairs in the dark. Clary, do you have your stele?" Jace asked.

"I don't know. I think-" Clary said, but she was cut off. As if on an unknown cue, the dark room was flooded with light. Very_,_ very _bright_light. Maia yelped, and Clary moved to shield her eyes, failing miserably, mainly due to the fact that, well, she was tied to a chair. Jace sneezed. Was he allergic to light? We'll never know.

Blinking the blindness out of her eyes, Maia looked around. She gasped at her surroundings, suddenly revealed.

* * *

****

AN: I'm not trying to insult any Twilight fans out there. Really, I'm not. But it's just _so_hard not to poke fun at it sometimes. ANYWAYS. Review, minions, or I won't update. Now, off you go. Or you won't get any pancakes. (I'm very nervous about reviews, so avoiding any flames would be great. Although, since the MI fandom is generally very good about that, I don't think I'll have to worry. YOU GUYS ROCK! ^-^) Can you beleive that the Spellchecker here doesn't think 'Jace' is a word? Impossible!


	2. Blackmail and Captured Kitties

Me again! I love the reviews, guys. Keep it up! Anyways, I've decided to make the fic a bit more serious and do a bit more plot developing. Don't worry, I'll still try and make it funny. Anyways, enjoy!

* * *

The room was blindingly white, lacking any windows or a visible door from where anyone could see. One wall, as blank as the others, had a slightly reflective quality, although it did little as a mirror. It probably was the reason that the light had been so blinding. As Isabelle, Jace, Simon and Clary recovered from the light (it took them longer, as they had been conscious of the darkness for a longer time), Maia stared. Everything looked planned, from the way that everybody was placed in their chairs (Magnus, now conscious, at one end, next to Simon, who was sideways on the floor, next to Jace, then Maia herself, followed by Alec, who was limp and only held on the chair by the ropes that tied him to it, then Clary and Isabelle) to the way that even the floor seemed to blend seamlessly with the walls. It was strange.

"Hello, hello. I see that most of you are awake now. How are you all today?" asked a calm voice from an unknown part of the room. Nobody replied, whether out of confusion or anger (or the fact that somebody was still unconscious), nobody knew. Either way, the calm voice continued. "Now, I'm sure you're all wondering why you're here-"

"You think?" Jace snapped, unsure of where to look. However, in all his Jace-y glory, he looked quite epic while talking to nobody he could see.

"- BUT I will be answering that question shortly. Now, is everybody awake?" The question was answered with a chorus of "I am" from six of the seven victims, although Alec remained silent. "I see. Beth, go wake up Alec,"

"Do I have to?" asked Beth, who was probably the one that was allergic to cats.

"They don't bite,"

"That can be disputed," Jace interjected, and Simon glared at him.

"ANYWAYS, Beth, go wake up Alec," snapped the other girl

"But Stace-"

"NOW, BETHANY" Stace (Stacey?) yelled. A lot of mumbling ensued, and Beth (Bethany?) opened a door. Of course, you couldn't _see_ her. No, certainly not. It was a very strong glamour. Very strong. The footsteps were heard near Alec, and although nobody saw what happened, the footsteps moved on. "Hurry up, Beth," Stacey said, clearly impatient, and Beth exited through the door. It opened into some sort of hallway. Which was white. There was too much white in this place.

"Are you going to tell us why we're here or not?" Jace snapped.

"Let's just wait for Alec to wake up, shall we?" Stacey said, sounding cheery. It was annoying. However, in a moment Alec stirred, and, suddenly, his head snapped up.

"Where are we?" he asked, staring at the other people tied to chairs.

"That's what we want to know," Isabelle told him, "But SOMEBODY isn't giving us any answers."

"Well, there's no need to get snappy, Isabelle. I'd love to answer all your questions, but you'll all have to answer some of mine," Stacey replied, sound as calm as if she was talking to a friend.

"What's keeping us from escaping?" Magnus questioned, sounding menacing. "I can break all of us out of here in a minute," he added as his hands started to glow a deep blue.

"Now, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Stacey sounder confident, as if she actually expected to be able to keep, him, the High Warlock of Brooklyn, who had nearly inexhaustible magical resources, tied to a chair.

"And why is that?"

"Well, I don't know. I do know, however, that in a cage behind me is a cat. What did you say your name was again, Kitty?" Stacey asked nobody anyone could see, "Chairman Meow? Well, that's an interesting name for a cat. Why don't you tell your owner that if he isn't careful, he might never see you again?" Sounds of meowing could be heard, frantic, as if Chairman Meow had understood what Stacey had said.

"I hope he bites you," Magnus spat, although he didn't do anything. Apparently, the threat had been effective.

"Well, he didn't bite _me,_ but he gave my friend here some nasty scratches,"

"I don't like cats," Bethany interjected, from somewhere else in the room Stacey was in.

"Shut up, Beth. Now, I'm sure the rest of you are wondering why you're all still here? I have some _lovely_ things of yours as well. In fact, why don't we see?" Stacey asked, as everyone tensed. If she could get Chairman Meow, the cat of a person who was very, _very_ powerful without him knowing, what sort of horrible things would they have to hold against them? "Well, lets go in order shall we? Get the boxes, Beth."

"Right away," Beth said, followed by the sounds of some very heavy boxes being dragged across a floor. After a moment, Stacey spoke.

"Hmm, Simon, I didn't know that you wrote songs! Poetry, too?" she paused, probably reading something. "What's this? You wrote a song to somebody? Somebody with hair like fire? Well, do you think she'd like to hear it, Simon?" Clary gulped, knowing what was coming.

"You wouldn't," snapped Simon, still from the floor.

"Try me, Vampire. Now, whose next? Jace? Let's see what we have to keep _you _here shall we?" Again, there was a pause. "Well, we certainly have a lot of weapons, but I'm sure that wouldn't keep everyone's favorite near-half-angel - Sorry, Clary - tied to a chair, would it?" There was no reply. "Really, Jace! I didn't know you collected things? These are very cute, you know." Jace paled. Apparently, whatever he collected wasn't something that was suitable for a big, scary Shadowhunter to collect.

"Now for you, Maia. You should know, it was quite a challenge to get something to use against _you_. Harder than anyone else, in fact. Just to tell you, we've located your parents and have them on speed dial. I'm sure they'd _love_ to hear what happened to their daughter, wouldn't they? And we have your collection of buttons. I didn't know you liked pink so much, Maia!" Stacey sounded surprised, even if it was an obvious act.

"You collect buttons, Maia?" Simon asked, confused. "Why?" He didn't get a reply, because Stacey started speaking again.

"As for you, Alec, your little 'protection' runes that you placed on that box you hid under your bed gave my hand quite a burn. It might not be the same again. However, I forgive you, because these journals of yours are very entertaining. I didn't know you had a stuffed turtle!" Stacey laughed as Alec turned an angry shad of red. "Now, I know about your little anger management issue, so I'll try not to bait you too much. We wouldn't want you to punch Clary, would you?" Beth found that utterly hilarious and started cracking up in the background as Alec paled. Clary looked confused, but it didn't last.

"Now, Clary, it was quite easy to take something from you. Not big on security, are you? Well, that doesn't matter. You're quite an artist, you know. However, you might not see your lovely sketchbooks If you misbehave. I, personally, can't believe you've kept _every single one."_ This threat wasn't very eloquent, but it was apparently effective. Perhaps Clary had drawn some… embarrassing things? Either way, she didn't reply. The last person was Isabelle.

"Now for you, Isabelle. I can imagine you know what I took, don't you? I'm not insane, nor evil, and won't bother mentioning what it is. I don't have a death wish. However, I will say that Chairman Meow isn't the only cat here," Stacey said, a hint of malice in her voice. Isabelle paled, only for a moment, before reacting.

"Not Churchy! You won't hurt him, will you?" she exclaimed, struggling against the ropes that tied her to the chair.

"Yes, I took 'Churchy'. He put up quite a fight, didn't you, Mr. Churchykins?" Another cat meowed. Protesting the embarrassing nickname given to him by his captor, perhaps? Then again, maybe he was just reacting to the noise.

"Please don't hurt him," Isabelle said, sounding strangely un-Isabelle like.

"I'm a cat person; I'd never hurt him. Or any other cat," Stacey said, not sounding strangely menacing for once. "But back to business. Should any of you feel like rebelling, despite my blackmail, I suggest you look around the room and remember who else is there. You can't see us, and you should know, Beth is good at walking silently. You won't know she's there until she's stabbed the person you care the most about through the heart. Not that we want to resort to that, in any case - All of you are important to our purposes. We'd go after those that aren't in the room anyways. Taking down somebody else would be, in a way, easier than capturing the seven of you." There was rustling as the victims attempted to turn in their chairs, but they were tied tight. It seemed as if many unspoken agreements were made in those short seconds, all of which saying 'Behave,'.

"What purposes?" Simon asked, breaking the silence.

"Oh," You could almost hear the grin in Stacey's voice, "You'll see."

**AN: Heh, how do you like it? I think I could have done better, but this chapter (and the next one) gave me some challenges. Anyways, review! Or I might never update with Chapter Three (Cupcakes, Pancakes, Muffins and Rants?)!**


	3. Pancakes, Cupcakes, Muffins and Rants?

DUR. Somebody reviewed asking who's POV this is, and I totally didn't think of that! . Stupid me. Oh well, I'll work it out later. I also realied I haven't been using a disclaimer. Stupid me.

**DISCLAIMER:**I do not own Cassandra Clare, Jace, Clary, Isabelle, Alec, Simon, Magnus OR Maia, a Stele, the Institute or any other Shadowhunter-y things. Although, they would be excellent birthday presents.

* * *

"I don't like the sound of that," mumbled Clary. Isabelle, as well as Maia, nodded. It didn't sound good.

"But, it's time to get busy. First things first. I have questions!" Stacey exclaimed, sounding like a hyper thirteen year old.

"I don't like the sound of _that_, either," Clary mumbled.

"I heard that," Stacey interjected into the silent conversation of nods that followed the comment.

"Well, what's the first question?" Simon asked, impatient from still being on the floor.

"You don't expect me to ask you the questions from _here_, do you? You at least deserve to see who captured you," Stacey replied. It was quiet for a moment, until the same door that Beth had entered through earlier opened again. This time, people could see who came through it.

Stacey didn't look like a Stacey. She was tall, with long light brown hair pulled loosely into a bun. Her skin was pale, but not _really_ pale. In fact, if it wasn't for her eyes (which were a very bright green. Like the demon's in Pandemonium, but not quite the same shade,) she'd look completely normal. Not at all like the sort of person that would be interrogating a bunch of possibly dangerous people. After having knocked them out, tied them to chairs and somehow getting her hands on things to blackmail them with, of course. It wasn't that she didn't look _capable_, of course, but frankly, she looked like a mundie.

"Hello, everyone! Are you ready for some questions?" she asked, leaning against the shiny wall.

"No," Simon mumbled. He was still sideways on the floor. Maybe it was the glare he was shooting at her, but Stacey detached herself from the wall and (almost too easily) pulled Simon's chair back into the upright position. "Thank you," he said, sarcastically.

"No problem, but now you get the first question," Stacey grinned, "I'll avoid the… More entertaining questions for now. Well, first things first. What's your favorite colour, Simon?" Simon paused for a moment, seeming to think hard.

"Green," he said, finally. Stacey pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and scribbled something down. Her right hand was burned. Apparently, she hadn't been lying about protective runes on Alec's box. Which meant she hadn't been lying about his journals. This was going to be fun.

"Good. Now for a new question. Simon, pancakes or waffles?" Stacey asked. Simon looked annoyed at being asked two questions in a row.

"I'm a vampire. I can't have pancakes OR waffles," he said.

"Pancakes or waffles," Stacey asked again.

"Neither."

"Pancakes or waffles."

"None."

"Pancakes. Or. Waffles."

"Neither."

"Simon, answer the stupid question. Pancakes, or, waffles?" Stacey's voice took on a slightly menacing tone. Which was odd. She didn't look very scary

"Fine. Waffles," Simon relented, answering the (stupid) question. Stacey moved on. She didn't write anything down this time.

"Jace, pancakes or waffles?" Stacey asked. Jace didn't reply.

"Say please," he said a moment later.

"I don't have time for this. Pancakes or waffles, Jace?"

"Only if you say please."

"Pancakes or waffles."

"Say please." Jace insisted, acting like he meant it, Stacey sighed, giving in.

"Please, Jace, do you prefer pancakes or waffles?"

"Well, now that you ask politely, I think waffles are better."

"You're infuriating," Stacey said, looking like she wanted to smack Jace while he wasn't in any real position to fight back. It's probably the reason he was tied up.

"That's my job," Jace replied.

"I thought it's killing demons."

"That's more of a part time thing. My real job is tormenting people who want to tie me to chairs."

"Technically, it's one chair, not chairs. You're not that fat. And Clary, same question. Pancakes or waffles?" Stacey asked, moving on.

"Are you asking us this because you're going to feed us?" Clary asked. She _was_ hungry, after all. She didn't know about anyone else, but Clary hadn't eaten since breakfast, and who _knew_ how long they had been unconscious?

"You bunch are just full or annoying questions, aren't you?" Stacey said, glaring at Jace in particular. Hey, it _is_ his job to torment people!

"Probably." Jace interjected. Really, somebody should hit him in the head with a baseball bat or something.

"No, I'm not going to be giving you any pancakes _or_ waffles. Now answer the damn question,"

"Pancakes. Waffles are boring," Clary said. Stacey rolled her eyes.

"Fine then. Alec, pancakes or waffles?" Alec didn't reply at first. Seriously, it's not like it's a hard question!

"Waffles," was all he said when he did reply. Despite waffles being 'boring' it was clear that they were winning.

"Pancakes," was the response from only two of the remaining victims (Magnus and Isabelle). Maia had chosen waffles, making it a 4-3 win.

"All right then. Next question. Is there a difference between cupcakes and muffins?" Stacey asked, looking for a person to answer.

"What sort of question is _that?_ Muffins and cupcakes are the same thing!" Simon said. He sounded very confident with his answer. Almost as if he was a Cupcakeologist or something. Come to think of it, that sounds like a fun job!

"Actually," Magnus interrupted, "That is a good question. There's a distinct difference between cupcakes and muffins. Muffins are usually denser, which is a good thing because they tend to have fruit and other things mixed in. Cupcakes are a lot lighter, and also tend to be smaller. Muffins can be eaten any day, but cupcakes are more formal, possibly due to the fact that they're often iced…" He continued ranting, oblivious to the groan of annoyance coming from Alec.

"Now he'll _never_ stop," Alec complained. How did he know this?

"I agree with whatever he's saying," Clary piped up. Most of the other people nodded.

"… And as you now know, there are, in fact, noticeable differences between cupcakes and muffins," Magnus finished. It would probably have been accompanied by some sort of explosion or an educational movie on a normal day.

"That was… Interesting. I could ask you all more questions, but I don't think I will," Stacey said, half to herself.

"So you're going to let us out?" Clary asked hopefully. The ropes tying her hands down were awfully tight, and it was clear that nobody else was exactly comfortable either.

"No. I have one more question,"

"What is it?" Maia asked, after saying little. She doesn't seem to talk much, does she? Everyone nodded, wanting to get out of the white room with the shiny wall and the white hallways and the white white white, everywhere that's closing in and there isn't any candy and- Wait, what?

Stacey grinned, somewhat maliciously. "Have any of you met, heard of or even thought of somebody who went by the name of Cassandra Clare?"

****

AN: Yaaaaay, somewhat cliffy! This is where the real plot, along with some of the funnier stuff, starts. The next chapter is being stubborn and doesn't want to be written, so it may take me a while to update. And you should know, the pancakes vs. waffles will be (somewhat) important later on. : ) Can you believe that I actually googled the difference between cupcakes and muffins for Magnus's answer? Which might re-appear later? In a different fanfic? Which I totally plan on writing? /hinthint


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